Knot a Liar (Knotted Up Book 1) (14 page)

“Tracey?”

A small smile Graces Tracey’s lips. Her eyes seem to shine a little brighter in Max’s presence. “Hi, Max.”

In an instant Max’s eyes take on a guarded, defensive look that spreads to the rest of his face. “What are you doing here?”

Tracey’s brightened countenance falls and a tremor is heard in her voice. “I need to talk to you.”

Max limply lifts his palm up in a So? gesture before shaking his head. “Tracey, nothing is th–”

“It’s important.” Tracey bites her bottom lip.

Looking around, I notice all eyes are trained on the two people as well. Good. I feel less intrusive and inquisitive.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Max looks down at his feet. “Whatever you have to say, say it here and now. I can’t be involved with you again. My ass is in a whole lot of mess because of you.”

Tracey’s gaze darts around the living room, looking at each unwelcomed party in the private conversation. “Max, please. This is rather private.”

A blank expression faces Tracey. “No. I want witnesses.”

Tracey wets her lips and makes a jerky nod. “Alright, have it your way. Max,” Tracey takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, then reopens them on a sharp exhale. “Max, I’m pregnant.”

Max grabs and holds onto the arm of the couch. Max’s eyes grow wide and stop blinking for a time. His mouth then falls open and his face stays frozen for almost a full minute. “Say what now?”

“I’m pregnant. The baby is yours.”

Spitting out a quick, choking laugh, Max says, “B-b-b-but, we broke up weeks ago.”

Tracey frowns. “Well that’s good, because I’m seven weeks pregnant. Found out two weeks ago.”

And like a true manly man, Max fainted.

My life just isn’t getting easier.

This only confirmed my earlier declaration. This put the writing on the wall that today is surely the worst day of my life –no doubts.

[
14
]

Ocean’s
Grace’s Seven x 2?

Savannah flops on the floor, releasing a loaded sigh. “That had to be the worst heist ever!”

Feeling a growing headache, I massage my temples. “I know.”

“They make it seem so easy in the movies! I’m beginning to think that it’s all one big production!”

Alex and I exchange furtive glances. Alex decides to take on the challenge of explaining the basics of movie making to Grace. “Uh… Grace, um, sweetie… a movie is one big production… with actors… and directors… and a script.” Alex’s glance darts around the room over everyone in the living room as she bites her lip. I shrug as Alex’s eyes rest on me. “You know, it’s similar to what you and Sam do… except the actors do more than one take… and it’s on film… and gets edited.”

Blocking out everything that Alex just said, Grace shakes her head and continues. “First we get caught.”

Noticing Grace is on one of her dramatic, albeit true, soliloquies, I decide to join in. “Then we take our ignorant coconspirator with us.”

Alex, too, decides to make an input. “No, he came willingly.”

Savannah sighs and shakes her head. “That truth made it worse.”

Savannah turns to glare at Sam. “Why didn’t you warn us that someone was entering the office?”

“I had juice this morning.”

Savannah gives Sam a blank look.

Sam tries for an apologetic tone. His face doesn’t believe him. Neither does anyone else. “Orange juice usually makes my bladder overactive. So really, you should blame Jodi for this. Don’t look at me like that.” Sam’s tone changes to a mocking and accusatory one at me glowering at him with an opened mouth. “You refused to buy my brand of coffee because it was too expensive. Orange juice. Who drinks that anymore?”

Before I could launch into a verbal assault, Alex speaks. “Oh, you poor baby. Jodi, what type of wife are you? Being concerned about your husband’s health? You are simply a devious woman.” Alex gets up and embraces Sam in a pitiful hug, patting his back. “There, there. Never mind that mean, grumpy wife of yours.” She moves back and looks in his eyes. “Pull through, Sam, pull through. You can make. I believe you are a survivor.”

Sam glares at Alex and shrugs her off before half-sitting, half-lying on the couch. “When is Tracey coming, Max?”

“She texted before we got here. She said ten minutes, so sh–”

Knock. Knock.

“My baby is right on time.”

“Which one? The one you left in Tracey or the–”

Alex frowns at Grace. “Savannah, shut up.”

Knock. Knock.

“What? You know I’m a naturally curious person. I was asking merely for information purposes.”

Yeah, right. The only person Grace could fool with that statement is the unborn child Tracey is carrying.

“Well as Grandpa Phil would say ‘Get your boogers out of my milk, I don’t need the flavour.’”

We all stare at Alex, varying expressions of disgust, amusement and wonderment. Each face unsure of what to do or say about that as Max opens the door.

“It means stop being so nosy.”

Sam narrows his eyes at Alex and says in a sweet tone. “And you couldn’t just have said that? You had to tell us all how weird your grandfather was?”

Arms crossed, Alex lowers angry brows at Sam. “He was not weird. He liked to put a unique spin on things.”

Tracey looks between Alex and Sam then turns to Max. Max shakes his head. “You really don’t want to know. Please don’t make me repeat.”

Tracey raises her brows. “Where’s Koya?”

Max snickers. “Apparently espionage doesn’t agree with her stomach. She’s in the bathroom.”

Brows drawing together, Tracey’s glance darts around, head turning as if looking for one of us to go into the bathroom with Koya. “So why is everyone in here if she’s sick in the bathroom?”

Sam, trying to keep a straight face, is failing astronomically. “Not that sickness. It’s coming from the other end. I think Koya deserves privacy for that one, don’t you?”

Tracey’s lips curl up and nose wrinkles. “Okay. What happened guys? I thought we were sticking to our plan. What happened to the plan?”

Savannah groans and lies flat on her back.

Sam gets up to go into the kitchen.

Alex sits on the floor beside Grace as she bites her lip while fidgeting with her pant leg.

Max moves into the kitchen with Sam.

I sit there and simply decide not tackle the momentous stupidity that was our ‘heist’. We should be charged for impersonating criminals.

Realizing no one was going to tackle the failure at Grace’s 7– our lacking impersonation of Ocean’s 11– I start talking.

Two hours earlier:

Savannah looks at Tracey, with her chin propped on the edge of the coffee table. “Then she had a dalliance with our client.”

Client? Max didn’t even know what we were up to.

Koya nods. “And to finish it off: got knocked up by him.”

Savannah looks to Koya. “While still married. You forgot that.”

Yes, Grace because we all forgot that a half-crazed, psycho licensed murderer in the form of a cop may be in dealings with the bane of my existence. Yup, thank you for that reminder. How could I ever forget! I smile at Grace. “Thank you.”

“You have to be the worst people living. You really think all that was necessary right now. My life is over. Might as well stand in the street and ask to be run over. Jamison is going to murder me for sure. And you know he’ll get away with it too. If not for the affair before, then certainly now that I’ve gotten his wife pregnant! Are you sure, by the way?”

Tracey shakes her head. “No, not really. The doctor, however, seemed pretty confident in his conclusion. I guess I can hide the pregnancy for a couple months. Give you time to figure out whether you want it or not.”

Seeing a myriad of emotions crossing Tracey’s face, I ask, “Do you want the baby?”

“I’m keeping my baby. I don’t care what the consequences of that decision will be.”

Savannah smiles at Tracey then stands to shake her legs before sitting again. “Well, help us get the pictures from Patricia’s office and you’ll both be home scot free.”

A harried expression crosses Max’s face. “You are just making it worse. You are asking me to willingly partake in and go near the one woman I swore to myself never to cross paths with again. Yeah… no, I don’t think so.”

Crossing the arms Grace narrows her eyes at Max. “But this is to help you.”

“Sorry, no. Patricia is the devil in a pretty dress.”

“I’ll tell your mom if you don’t help us.”

Max glowers at Grace’s smiling face as he turns to his brother. “Sam, I’m telling you right now. This is how it all starts. Stay clear of Grace. Don’t let Jodi hang out with her too much either.”

Savannah’s smile widens. “Oh, come on, Max.”

“This is peer pressure. Alright! Tell me what to do.”

Tilting his head to the right, Sam says, “So… I’m the screw-up right, Max? At least we got married before anything like that will happen, eh Jodi?”

Huh? Oh pretend face on. “We’ll have to talk about babies another day, Sam.”

“You don’t want children with me?”

What the hell is going on in his head? “Uhh… yeah… just… not… right now?”

In a clipped tone, Sam says, “Fine.”

Savannah stretches her face in a huge grin. “Ooh trouble in paradise.”

Alex groans and mutters, “I’m dealing with children in overgrown, adult- looking bodies.” Alex grabs a sheet of paper off the ground and slaps it down on the coffee table. “We’re going through the plan one last time!”

Everyone groans, including– and I’m sure I heard right– Max and Tracey’s unborn child.

Alex fixes each of us with squinted eyes. “Jodi, yo–”

Koya huffs and throws her hands up. “Come on! Are you serious? You’re going to talk that plan to death!”

Sam rubs at his temples. “Believe me, that plan is permanently etched in my mind now. I could not forget even if a gun was pressed to my temple.”

Knowing that going over the plan once more won’t change the basic logistics of its stupidity, I say, “Alex, I’m sorry but I must agree. Going over the plan for the fifth ti–”

Savannah’s head raises off the coffee table. “Seventh.”

“–Seventh time will not make it more fool proof.” Too many idiots are involved for that to be possible.

“Well, excuse me. Pardon my need for reassurance that everything will go smoothly.”

Alex manages to only guilt me and Grace, accepting coerced apologies from us. Sam, Max and Tracey look ready to be done with the topic.

“Alex, we need to get moving. It’s almost 11:30 and Patricia is already suspicious of our lunch date. I don’t want to be late as well. You guys will need at least the entire hour to go through the office.”

Alex, nods, apparently seeing the logic behind Tracey’s words.

Savannah jumps up from her seat. “Alright, let’s go Grace’s 7.”

Alex hangs her head. “I need new friends.”

Taking the elevator, we all punch in our six different floor numbers that hold appointments we’ll never get to today. The nerves that are creeping up on me is making it difficult to relax so instead, I start thinking about the goal.

The goal is overcoming the monster. The terrifying, all-powerful, life-threatening monster whom the hero, me, must confront in a fight to the death. Figuratively speaking, of course. This monster is Beowulf, Jack and the Beanstalk, and Dracula, all rolled into one.

Patricia is my Dracula.

Patricia is my monster.

This is step one in slaying Dracula, my giant Grendel.

Stepping off the elevator, I wait until the others pass me by, all donning their costumes and disguises in an effort to blend into the background.

Adopting the persona I landed in a stupid drawing the short stick game, I breathe deeply and prepare myself mentally. I take out my cellphone and start playing solitaire as I walk over to the receptionist area trying to feign being a big shot.

“Hello, how may I help you today?”

I barely look up from the phone to acknowledge the genuine smile greeting me. “Hmmm? Oh, hello. I’m here to see Mrs Lorraine Sanders. There should be a 12 o’clock appointment.”

“Lorraine Sanders? Ther–”

“Yes, Lorraine Sanders!” Dial it back, Jodi. “The Senior Editor of Judd’s Word Press? Do you even know what company you work for? You must be new here. You are quite inept at your occupation.”

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry but this is S T & P Marketing and Advertising Agency. Judd’s Word Press is on the 14th floor. This is the 15th?”

“That daft man must’ve pressed the wrong button. If following simple instructions likens to a herculean task for him then I’ll have to get him fired. Imagine what a mess he makes of his job. Wait… you said this is S T & P Marketing and Advertising?”

“Y– yes?”

“Do you have a Patricia Simpleton working here?”

“Yes, she’s now the Vice-president of Marketing.”

“Yes, I know. Now show me to her office.”

“Uh… I d– don’t think I can do that.”

“And why not? Or should I call Patricia herself and let her lead you to the front of the unemployment line? Do you even know to whom you are speaking? I’ve known Pat from we were girls. Yes, I’m one of the very few who calls her Pat. Advice: don’t try it. People Pat detest don’t get to call her that.”

The answering smile builds as into an emotionless mask. Eyes slightly narrow at me before they straighten out and again adopt a stiff, unpleasant version of the smile I first saw on the receptionist’s face.

Slowly unfolding his body, the receptionist stands and hovers over his desk. Hands, elegant and manicured seem to be everywhere at once, reorganizing the desk that is in perfect symmetry. “I know.”

I feel bad at once but remind myself that this is for the greater good of the world. Well, my world, that is. “Good. While I’m in a forgiving mood, lead me to her office. Lorraine will have to wait another day.”

An exaggerated sigh escapes the lanky built young man. If he were shorter, his weight would’ve caught up to him but he looks stretched. Too tall and too thin. Where does he get clothes to fit?